


Tangled Up In You

by Alltheshrinks



Series: Firemen AU [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fire related violence, Gay Sex, Incest, M/M, Rimming, Sex Toys, Switch Dean Winchester, Switch Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 06:48:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17761847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alltheshrinks/pseuds/Alltheshrinks
Summary: Five years after the events of You Go? We Go? Dean is having a rough time and Sam decides Valentine’s Day is the perfect time to do something nice for his brother.





	Tangled Up In You

The winter sky is a coppery-orange hue along the nighttime curtain of black along the Kansas City skyline. Flames from a downtown warehouse blaze, shoot upwards in an almost majestic way. It’s a sight that should have Lieutenant Sam Winchester mesmerized, but it’s not what has captured his attention.

Sitting on the back of the Engine Truck, holding a three-year-old boy inside his turnout coat is Captain Dean Winchester. He’s covered in ashes and soot, his hair is soaked and matted to his head from his helmet. He’s whispering words to the boy that Sam can’t hear.

Sam watches the EMTs approach Dean with a Mylar blanket. They exchange a few words and then Dean says something to the toddler he’s holding. The boy reacts immediately, clutching at Dean’s white shirt and burrowing further into his coat.

It takes several more minutes before the paramedics can pry the child out of Dean’s grasp. They wrap him in the blanket and disappear around the corner of the row of fire trucks. Dean buries his face in his hands.

Sam covers the distance quickly and sits down quietly next to Dean. He wraps an arm around his shoulder in a familia gesture and waits. He’s found out that if he waits long enough, Dean will talk.

“Little Travis there lost his dad, it’s not looking good for his mom. I fucking hate this. What kind of jerk-off builds apartment buildings this close to a fucking fertilizer plant?” Dean leans into Sam’s side.

“But you saved him. He’s going to live and grow up and who knows, maybe he will save the world.” Sam says quietly. He hates this part of the job, where people die because they weren’t fast enough. Dean takes every death as a personal affront. Even if 17 was called in as backup and couldn’t have gotten there in time anyway, Dean feels responsible. It’s one of the things Sam loves about his brother, but also something that breaks his heart.

“Yeah,” Dean finally answers and wipes his face. He looks at Sam, the glow from the fire highlighting his strong features, eyes shining with unshed tears. Sam is once again caught off guard at how beautiful Dean is, inside and out. “Lets go end this bitch,” the captain gestures towards the still lingering flames.

  
*******

  
Sam finishes his fire reports, goes through requisition forms and vacation requests. It’s approaching 0700 and the end of the shift, when he finally closes down his computer and locks up his small office.

When he gets to the door of Dean’s office, he gently raps on the door, “Dean? Almost done?”

His brother looks up from his computer screen. His red-rimmed, shadowed eyes are the only indication of how hard last night was. “Yeah, let me send this to the chief and we’ll go.”

Dean finally pushes back from his desk, his limp more pronounced after sitting for awhile.

“Knee bothering you?” Sam says, eyeing the bottle of aspirin on the desk.

“It’s fine, just hates the cold,” Dean waves off and hands Sam the keys to the Impala. There was a time that Dean would never let his sibling drive his car, but he can’t imagine refusing anything to Sam these days.

Sam guides the car towards the river, driving at a leisurely pace. Dean has his head against the glass of the passenger side window, eyes fluttering closed with exhaustion.

Once they arrive home, Sam unlocks the door and leads Dean inside. He strips his sibling’s white uniform shirt and navy Dickies off before shoving his brother down onto the mattress and covers him up. Dean’s asleep in seconds. The captain has two settings for bad fires: he either wants to fuck Sam’s brains out, leaving bruises and marks that let both know they are alive, or he withdraws into himself. Looks like it is the latter this time. Sam can deal with the former much easier.

  
*******

  
Dean wakes up to darkness, he rubs his eyes and looks at the blue glow of his alarm. It’s 5:30. He’s unsure if it’s am or pm, but the absence of Sam in bed probably means it’s late afternoon.

The fireman stretches his sleep warm limbs, rubs the film from his eyes and gets out of bed. A quick trip to the ensuite to relieve his screaming bladder and to brush the long hours of sleep from his mouth.

It’s dark in the hallway when he opens the door and the living room is pitch black, there’s light coming from under the door to the kitchen, so he opens it.

The smell is the first thing he notices, the spices and herbs permeating his olfactory nerve and assaulting his normally dulled sense of smell.

Sam’s turned away from him at the stove, still wearing his white fire department shirt. It’s stretched tightly across his shoulders and leaves little to the imagination. Dean feels himself harden in his boxer briefs.

With no preamble, the older brother walks up behind Sam and wraps his arms around his waist, burying his face into the crook of Sam’s neck and kissing the warm skin along the tendon. Sam groans, one hand trying to focus on stirring whatever is on the stove and the other coming up to card through his brother’s pillow mussed hair.

Unable to resist the impossibly plush lips that have started sucking on an earlobe, Sam removes the pan from the pilot light and turns to face Dean.

“You need to stop,” Sam moans into Dean’s mouth as his brother captures his face in his hands and plunders his mouth.

Dean chuckles into the kiss, reaches down and palms Sam through his pants, “This doesn’t say stop to me.”

Sam grabs Dean’s wrist and forces it away from his dick. Tearing his lips away from that searing kiss is a little harder, but he manages. “Eat first, sex later.”

“Oh, I want to eat, alright. You first, then food.” Dean’s traitorous stomach picks that time to growl loudly.

Sam hands Dean two wine glasses and a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and shoves him towards the door to the small dining room that they rarely use. Dean looks a little forlornly at his brother, then opens the swinging door. The dining room is only lit by two tapered candles, sitting on the ends of the dark cherry table. Two place settings along with a dozen roses also adorn the table.

Dean shakes his head, mentally he knows it’s Valentines’ Day, but they don’t celebrate sappy holidays. He’s not a girl and Sam doesn’t need to woo him.

The door behind him opens as Dean is opening the wine, his hand stilling on the corkscrew as he notices what Sam’s carrying. A large platter of prime rib roast, which just happens to be his favorite. He can’t help his mouth from salivating.

“Still not hungry for food?” Sam says smugly, noticing the look on Dean’s face.

“What’s with the candles and shit? Not that I don’t appreciate the steak, but I’m pretty much a sure thing. No wining and dining necessary.” Dean says nonchalantly, going back to opening the bottle of wine.

“Doesn’t the fact that I don’t have to, make it better? And I’m not allowed to do something nice on occasion?” Sam sets the platter down and then looks his brother up and down. “Do you want to change?”

The older brother glances down at his plain white undershirt and his maroon boxer briefs. He is slightly underdressed for dinner. “This is your show, Sammy. Do you want me to change?”

Sam looks his sibling up and down again. He’s slightly rumpled and adorably disheveled, a softness present that the rest of the world rarely sees. “Nah,” Sam replies, unbuttoning his shirt.

Once the lieutenant is down to just his own underwear and t-shirt, Dean is once again torn between his two favorite meals. He wants to rake everything off the table and devour his brother, right there. To taste and touch and finally find out how sturdy this new table is. But Sam did this for him, so he can wait. Then he will just have to say an extra thank you.

Dinner is filled with laughter and too much wine. The roast is amazing and Dean finds himself stuffing his face. It’s a little silly, both in their undergarments and Dean sitting with his legs in his seat. One folded in, his elbow resting on his knee and the other tucked in under him. Sam has turned his chair backwards and is straddling it.

They talk about mundane things, keeping the conversation light-hearted, neither wanting to discuss the tragedy of the night before. Anytime kids are involved, it hits Dean harder. He’s an amazing father, but no one has ever been able to make him believe it.

  
*******

  
Sam is loading the dishwasher while Dean pours out the last of bottle number three. They are both buzzed and so full that Dean thinks he’ll explode any second.

Sam turns to find his sibling right behind him, crowding up into his space. Dean empties the contents of his wine glass, sits it on the counter and shoves Sam against the granite stone. He kisses him frantically, it’s filthy and heated. One hand comes up to grip the base of Sam’s skull and the other slips into Sam’s black boxer briefs. The older brother grabs at his sibling’s rapidly filling erection, stroking the smooth skin lazily, exactly opposite from the teeth gnashing kiss that they’ve got going on.

The taller man needs more friction before he dies, so he palms the globes of Dean’s perfectly round ass and grinds into him. The move earns him an approving moan, as Dean shoves his own boxers down and takes both of their cocks into his hand. He can’t close around them like Sam can, Sasquatch hands, but his hand is big enough to successfully get both of them off.

Sam pulls away for the second time of the evening, his brother whines his protest out before Sam shushes him. “We are not coming like teenagers, tonight. I’ve got a plan that involves someone getting their ass pounded and probably some trouble sitting tomorrow.”

Dean’s eyes darken and he shakes off a shiver that the mental picture gives him. The older Winchester wastes no time in dragging his brother down the hall to the bedroom, attacking his mouth again as they cross the threshold.

“So, whose ass is getting pounded tonight?” Asks Dean, as he breaks away to relieve both of them of their shirts.

“Well...” Sam is a little quiet and almost bashful as he opens his night stand drawer and pulls out a box. It’s not a very big box and when he opens it, Dean can see the oddly j-shaped silicone toy and a remote control. “I want to use this on you, while you fuck me.”

The older fireman’s face heats up with lust, he and Sam are not strangers to kinks or introducing a little excitement in the bedroom. They’ve tried out every position possible, had sex in semi public places (Sam is an exhibitionist), and given a variety of massage oils and lubes a try. This is the first toy, however. Dean runs his finger along the slick rubber and looks at Sam.

“It’s a prostate massager, and a cock ring, with a remote. It vibrates, so we insert it and then... I ride you...” Sam is getting increasingly nervous at Dean’s lack of response. “We don’t have to, it was just...”

Sam’s cut off by Dean tackling him onto the bed. “Oh fuck, yes!” The older man says, his tongue forcing its way into Sam’s mouth, licking at the ridges of his palate and along his upper molars. He rips at their remaining clothing and they are finally skin on skin.

Dean attacks Sam’s lips and down his jaw before moving on to the long expanse of his throat and collar bone. The wine making both of them flush with heat and slightly fuzzy-brained. Sam’s fingertips leaving biting marks on Dean’s hips as he tries to arch into his brother’s touch.

Dean finally grabs at the nightstand and pulls the lube out, “How are we going to do this?” He looks entirely too young and innocent for his own good, especially given that innocent is the last word Sam would use to describe him. He’s a proverbial wolf in sheep’s clothing, like a sexual bear trap that the younger man gets snared in, repeatedly.

Sam pulls the bottle out of Dean’s hand and opens the cap, drizzling a decent sized amount of the shiny, slick lube over his fingers. He kisses the older man gently before rolling his brother on his back. He turns his own body towards the footboard, sits on his feet and angles his ass nearly in his brother’s face.

Sam has separated his sibling’s legs and begun to circle around that tight furrowed hole when Dean finally gets with the program. He picks up the discarded bottle and coats his own fingers, before leaning in and runs his tongue over Sam’s pink opening. Sam hisses and then breeches that first ring of muscles with his middle finger.

The burning stretch that Dean feels from Sam’s long, thick fingers has faded behind the haze of the alcohol and the blood rushing in his ears. They work in tandem, Sam thrusting his fingers in and out, stretching as carefully and throughly as he can. All the while, Dean is alternating between scissoring his fingers and rubbing against Sam’s sweet spot, which makes the younger male curse every time it happens.

Every brush of Sam’s fingers lights Dean on fire and he starts to beg. He doesn’t even know if he’s begging for him to stop or to never stop, just random, “Please, please...” mixed in with the occasional, “fuck!”

Sam isn’t fairing much better, he’s so hard and so turned on by the thought of what they are doing that he has to grab at the base of his cock to stop from coming. Dean takes that as his cue and hands him the black toy.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Sam questions as he picks up the lube and drenches the shaft of it. He places the curved end up against his brother’s rim and turns to look at Dean. The older man is wrecked, lips way too swollen and red, slightly parted as he tries to calm his breathing. Emerald eyes are lust blown with heavy lids, halfway closed and the temples of his hairline dark with sweat. He’s absolutely gorgeous and Sam loves him so much he aches with it. “Dean?” He asks again.

“Do it, please...” comes Dean’s reply, all sex drunk and smoke roughened. He’s loose limbed, his own length is weeping and hard against his stomach.

Sam eases the tip inside, it’s smaller than he is and he knows that Dean can take it, but he hates the idea of it being painful. He stops after a couple of inches, just to have the older man cant his hips and request, “More.” Sam obliges and by the time it’s fully seated with the built in cock ring in place, Dean is nearly vibrating with need. His eyes are closed tightly, incisors working his bottom lip and his hands fist desperately in the sheets. Sam wants to take a picture, but can’t be bothered to find his phone.

Sam has been clamping down on his own want and when he straddles Dean, it comes rushing back. He gingerly lubes up his sibling’s cock, Dean is hyper sensitive with his ass full of plastic and balls constricted. Dean still moans loudly at the touch and then when Sam lines up, sinking down, he nearly comes up off the bed.

“Okay?” The younger fireman inquires. His brother has covered his face with his hands and is covered in goosebumps.

Several seconds pass and Dean removes his hands, “That’s... shit. It’s just really intense.”

“I haven’t even turned it on yet,” Sam placates and it earns him a dirty look. “If it’s too much, say the word and we will stop.”

Dean’s eyes narrow even more and he chokes out, “Don’t you dare.”

Sam chuckles and starts to move. Using Dean’s chest as leverage, he raises all the way up, leaving just the tip inside and then sinks back down. The second time, Dean becomes impatient and grabs Sam’s hips, thrusting up. Again and again, their bodies smashing in a sinful collision.

Dean is driving up into him desperately, his own hips inches off the mattress and meeting his thrusts violently. Every impact of Sam’s ass against Dean’s engorged balls has the man nearly crying.

Sam reaches for the remote to the massager and clicks it to the lowest setting. It’s like static electricity as the older Winchester’s back bows and he completely arches off the bed, almost unseating Sam. The scream that leaves his throat is higher pitched than he will ever admit to, toes curling and nerves lighting on fire.

“Fuck, I need...” Dean’s voice is pained and there are tears coming from his eyes as his body spasms and jerks. There are involuntary twitches of Dean’s own throbbing dick, pummeling Sam’s prostate in an unforgiving rhythm. His brother is swollen and harder than a diamond, filling the younger man up almost past his capacity.

Sam strokes himself quickly as he reaches around to unsnap the ring. His own climax hitting him like a freight train. Sparks of pleasure ignite from his balls to his spine and his stomach muscles involuntarily constrict. Blood rushes to his ears and hot jets of come spew out and over his hand.

He finally gets ahold of the snaps and tugs the release strap. Dean thrashes wildly as he’s finally able to come. It’s built up in him like a pressure valve and every nerve in his body tingles, his muscles twitch and his eyes roll all the way back in his head. The pleasure-pain current that rips through his body causes him to black out for a second, before he erupts like Mount St Helens.

Sam rolls off and Dean hisses at the feeling. His cock is still semi-hard and so sensitive that the cool air hitting it causes him to flinch. Sam carefully removes the vibrator, feeling slightly guilty at how his brother gasps and the red, irritated skin of his entrance.

  
*******

  
Sam makes sure to clean them both up, sterilize the toy and put it away and then make his way back to the kitchen. He checks all the locks, and retrieves the rest of his Valentine’s present for Dean.

The older sibling is lightly dozing when Sam comes back into the bedroom. He’s smiling in his sleep when Sam leans down to kiss his cheek. Impossibly big eyes blink open and his smile widens.

“I brought you something,” Sam says, placing another kiss to Dean’s forehead.

“I don’t think I can survive anything else,” Dean says with a laugh.

“You’ll want this,” Sam assures him, holding a forkful of apple pie to his big brother’s lips. Dean hums around the tines of the fork and Sam offers him the plate.

“Feed me, I don’t think I can sit,” Dean says while still chewing the dessert. Sam laughs and Dean glares, “Wait until I use that thing on you.”

“Dude, you screamed like a girl,” Sam replies offering him another bite. “And you blacked out, I’m the best brother, ever!”

“You’re alright, I guess. Even though you tried to kill me.” Dean eats the last bite and kisses Sam. “I know we don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day, but this was really nice. Thank you.”

Sam blushes. Few things can make that happen, but praise and the adoring look Dean gives him are always sure fire ways.

  
*******

  
Sam wakes up to sunlight streaming in the windows of the bedroom, Dean’s legs are tangled up with his own and his brother’s face is in the crook of his neck. A quick look at the alarm clock shows that it’s only 7:30. Sam snuggles back up and let’s sleep take him.

  
*******

  
When he opens his eyes again, it’s 9:30 and the bed is empty. He relieves himself and then makes his way into the kitchen, where Dean is leaning over the bar, drinking coffee and filling out paperwork for the department.

“‘Morning,” Sam says and trudges his way over to the coffee maker.

“‘Morning. FYI, I won’t be able to shower at the station for a few days.” The older man lifts his shirt and Sam sees the scratches and finger shaped bruises on his hips and torso.

“Oops. I’m sorry.” Sam replies.

“No you aren’t, but it’s ok, you can’t either.” Dean smiles into his coffee cup and starts digging in the cabinets for pancake batter.

Sam is confused, but enjoys his heart-shaped pancakes and easy breakfast banter with his brother.

  
*******

  
Sam realizes what his brother was talking about later while in the shower. He has a large hickie right above his left nipple and a large assortment of bruises-mostly perfect fingertip shaped, on his hips and ass.

He groans thinking about how they are going to get around this, but decides it was worth it. Anything with Dean is always worth it.

 


End file.
